


It's not real; but it is.

by NataliaSteven



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, romanogers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9268295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NataliaSteven/pseuds/NataliaSteven
Summary: Natasha is unfortunately plagued by nightmares at the tower, and originally had no one to comfort her. That's when Steve gave up on letting her suffer and began to comfort her. It is throughout these late night conversations and comforting that they grow closer in a way neither of them ever imagined.





	1. You'll never escape

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and thank you for reading my first posted Romanogers fan fiction. Please tell me what you think!

The Avengers tower was a sacred place, a safe space, for those rejected by society. It was there that those with abilities could find some sort of solitude among each other. Nobody gets to that point without some wounds to heal. Screams of nightmares often echo through the halls, and someone almost always responds. Wanda is the most frequently tormented, being the youngest and less equipped to handle it all. Pietro was her rock, and with his passing came more pain and no one to help her handle it. Sometimes it was Natasha, sometimes Steve. Even Tony. They all had their different solutions.

 

Natasha’s was to store it, use it when it counted. She saw emotions as something that could be used as a weapon. 

 

“Take that pain, and do something with it.” She said one night after Wanda suffered a particularly harrowing nightmare.

 

“I’m not like you Nat. I can’t control my emotions. They just kind of explode when I least expect them to.”

 

“It’s okay. You can’t just get rid of them, but with practice you can fuel them into something important.” And Natasha began to hum a song from her childhood.

 

“I’m not a child. I don’t need a lullaby.”

 

“Music is not for children. Now lay down and relax.” Natasha replied.

 

Deciding it wasn’t worth the fight, Wanda laid down and it wasn’t long before her breathing became steady and her back rose and fell at a consistent pace. Upon noticing this Natasha abruptly stops her song.The thing with those old russian songs is that the tune appears beautiful, to hide the ugly in its lyrics. Maybe that’s a bit of a dark explanation of a lullaby, but if they weren’t that bad they wouldn’t haunt Natasha’s nightmares every single night.

 

It was then that she walked back to her own room and laid down in her bed, which was much smaller and simple than Wanda’s, and attempted a good night’s sleep. Per the usual, she had no such luck. Not after what felt like 20 minutes she was tossing and turning in her cotton sheets, her hand cuffed to her bed frame restricting her efforts to get away. That was the point, however. Of the handcuffs I mean. Once one does something like that for so long, it becomes a part of them, one they won’t soon be rid of. So even once they escaped from they had been forced to become, they could never truly be free, but metaphorically and literally chained down by their past. What a shame that such a beautiful young lady tossed and turned at one am, the terror of the images in her brain absolutely consuming her. 

 

A song plays in the background. No words, just the tune. But it's enough. The sound of her feet landing gracefully on the marble floors of the ballroom (made to symbolize the women they created) worked it’s way into the music. One might even think the scene to be beautiful; but they couldn’t be further from the truth. Even before the sound of bullets ruptured the serenity of the room it possessed a certain eerie aura. One that gives its inhabitants the feeling, well, more like the knowledge, that they can’t escape. One that tells them they will forever be trapped in that room of red. And the bullets, they kept on flying. Hitting everything in the room save the young Natasha, dancing on and on as they tear her surroundings to pieces. A little girl is crushed by the rubble. Then another, and another, but Natasha dances on. The world around her collapses until nothing is left but her, and the music, and the dance. It’s as if something is holding her back until all she’s ever known has been destroyed and she can finally leave. But even as she walks away, the urge to dance still tickles her feet. And the steps forever engraved in her memory run through and through her thoughts. 

 

Suddenly, a young girl appears in the path before her; the one first crushed by the collapsed building.

 

“You’ll never escape.” she says.

 

Natasha walks on past her. Moments later another girl, the second to fall, joins her young friend in blocking her path.

 

“You’ll never escape.” They say in unison.

 

Natasha tries so hard to walk on, but before she’s able to move another inch she’s surrounded by all the faces of the lives she’s taken. She had nothing against them, but she didn’t question her orders. You just don’t question your orders in the red room. 

 

Disobedience gets you killed. 

 

Not that there was exactly anything to live for.

 

“You’ll never escape.” The mass surrounding her in a close circle began to chant.

 

“We’ll haunt you forever, you’ll never escape.” They add. They repeat and repeat the phrases until they are upon her; inches from her body, armed with sticks and stones and whatever else they could get their hands on.

 

“No.” She uttered, shaking both in her dream and in reality.

 

“NO!” She screamed, waking up with a jolt at her own noise.

 

Her door remains closed; she was safe, or so it would appear. Moments following her shout a soft whimper escaped her lips, followed by quiet tears tumbling down her cheeks. Her door creaked open to reveal a large yet comforting figure standing in the now empty space.

“I’ve heard you, for a bit of time now. I can’t handle it anymore.” Said Steve; her neighbor at the tower.

 

“Evidently neither can I.” She replied. “But I don’t want to trouble you. Go back to bed, Rogers.” She added.

 

“That’s a joke, right? You’ve got to be joking.”

 

She laughed at him “No joke, Steve, go back to bed. I’m not worth losing sleep over.”

 

“That’s what’s funny, you think I can sleep.”

 

He walked over and sat on the bed next to her; hand still handcuffed to the frame.

“That can’t be comfortable.” He commented, nodding at her current position.

 

“I’ve grown used to it. I’ve tried sleeping without it and..”

 

“Are you sleeping now?”

 

“No.” She uttered.

 

“Then at least make yourself comfortable.” He replied.

 

After a few moments with no action to remove her restraints, Steve took matters into his own hands, quite literally. He bent the cuff off of the frame and held Natasha’s hand in his as he more delicately removed the one attached to her arm. Bruises were revealed as he pulled it off.

 

“Why would you do this to yourself?” he asked.

 

“I like the pain. I deserve it.”

 

“No you don’t”

 

“Yes, I do.” She replied, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks and straightening herself out.

 

“I think you should leave.” She said.

 

“I think you should stop pushing help away.”

 

“Is that what this is? Help? Am I just some charity case to you?” 

 

Steve paused a minute before taking a deep breath and responding.

“You know you’re more than that.” He said. 

 

Then it was Natasha’s turn to be surprised.

 

“Fine, You can stay.”

 

“I wasn’t leaving anyways.”

 

“Well good for you.” She snapped. Seeing his hurt, compassionate expression after remark she forced a sad smile and apologized.

“I know you’re just trying to help, but you need to know that I’m not worth helping.” She said.

 

“Let me be the judge of that.” He said.

 

She immediately broke down into tears and fell into his waiting arms. He held her as she sobbed and sobbed about, well, everything. He closed his eyes and let her soak the shirt on his shoulders with her tears. He hated that shirt anyways.


	2. Do Your Worst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha doesn't react well to the night before. That being her not reacting at all and hiding all day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay thank you so much for reading the first chapter! I was really surprised by how many were interested enough to do that haha! I promise the next chapter will be much cuter, but I really wanted this transition chapter to show Natasha's reactions. ENJOY!!

The next morning Steve woke up to an empty space next to him where Natasha had once slept soundly for the first time in a long time. He rolled of her bed and began to recall the events that lead up to him standing where he was. 

She had fallen asleep on his shoulder; his shirt still wet with her tears. He let her stay there for a while before he fell asleep himself. He had leaned back with her still in his arms, but her face then resting on her pillow. 

"How do I respond to that?" He wondered. 

He had never seen her open in that way before. Maybe a better question would be ‘how would she respond?’ Because at the end of the day, she was the one with the temper and tendency to clam up at signs of affection. If that could even be considered affection. It was definitely more than a comforting interaction between friends, but was it enough to justify a human reaction from the infamous Black Widow, manipulator of emotions? 

Probably not.

Only one way to find out.

He walked out of her room, checking both ways for any snoopy neighbors before continuing down his path to the kitchen. As he walked in her saw a familiar red-haired green-eyed girl sitting on the counter looking unusually engrossed in her cereal. He took a couple steps towards her, but before he could get within a few feet she became aware of his presence and hopped off her perch. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” He said.

“You didn’t.” She lied in reply. 

“I just realized I have to check up on a mission.” She recovered

“Starting work so early?” Steve asked, clearly oblivious to her avoiding him.

“Yeah, catch you later.” Natasha said in an effort to get away from him; from feeling.

Nothing good ever comes from that.

Not with her anyways.

She puts her bowl in the sink and walks with her usual confident stride to the neighboring room, scolding herself for her mistakes. Tonight she would lock her door; keep him out and away from her. Right where he belonged. She didn’t know where exactly it was that he should be, but it sure as hell wasn’t with her. 

Someone like him deserved someone better than what she was.   
A murderer.  
A spy.   
He deserved someone worthy of all the love he had to give. Little did she understand that this was one battle she wouldn’t win.   
If there was one thing Steve Rogers refused to give up on; it was love.

~*~  
Later that evening, Steve was relaxing in the living room with Sam when Natasha came strolling through.

“Oh! So you didn’t wander away somewhere and get lost; what a shame.” Said Sam; referring to her withdrawal from any and all events of that day.

Her only response was a glare that many said was enough to kill a man. Sam laughed it off; but couldn’t keep himself from staring with a bit of concern at her seemingly soul-piercing emerald green eyes. They don’t frighten Steve, however; for he’s seen those same eyes scared and confused. She couldn’t fool him any longer. Her confidence drew him to her none the less, but he knew who she really was, and was far too invested in that Natasha to fear her.

When she was satisfied with her response she continued through on her path to the kitchen, and Steve watched her as she poured yet another bowl of cereal.

“You know, we had dinner if you want any. Or you can just keep eating that garbage.” Steve said a bit timidly, standing up and walking over to her to show where he had put the leftovers.

“I’ll stick to my garbage.” She replied with a smirk.

“But thanks for the offer.”

At that she pushed by him and returned to her bedroom with a stack of files underneath her arm.

“That’s a bit too much scary for just one person if you ask me.” Said Sam after she was safely down the hallway.

“Yeah.” Replied Steve halfheartedly. His mind had wandered elsewhere, to where it always ended up, Natasha.

"Do your worst." He thought.

"Because no pain can compare to the one I feel knowing you’ve gone all these years alone."

Yes she had Clint, who had always tried to reach her; but he had something Steve didn’t.   
And that, was something to lose.


	3. By Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha continues to deny her feelings; and then she doesn't. Steve doesn't give up. As is to be expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thank you so much for reading and (hopefully) enjoying this. I'm glad its entertaining somebody! I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I loved writing it. I'm debating between two endings right now so the final chapter may be up tomorrow but if not by Saturday. ENJOY

Natasha tossed the files carelessly on her desk and sat with her back against the door.

“Why do I do this?” she asked herself.

“Because wanting him is selfish.” she answered.

“But is it?”

She laughed aloud.

“Now you’ve really lost it.” 

She leaned her head against the door and looked up at the ceiling. She followed the pattern of swirls and shapes in an effort to pull her thoughts away from those eyes, and that smile.. 

She rolled her eyes and stormed over to her desk chair. She plunked down, skoot it forward a bit, and began engrossing herself in tedious work. That never failed to distract her.

It had worked all day.

Why wouldn’t it work now?

She studied the report with a frightening intensity.

10 soldiers, all armed.

3 imprisoned.

7 dead.

She wrote in more specific armor types and gun series, tapping her blue pen on the paper between words. After scribbling down a few more bits, she closed the file and stuck the pen through her messy ponytail. With nothing left to distract her she leaned back her chair and spun around a few times, her thoughts wandering to how she would sleep that night. She had grown used to sleepless nights, but now that she had a taste of what it was like to rest easy; it would be a painful adjustment back.

A knock on her door interrupted her train of thought, and she got up and walked over to it before responding.

“Don’t come in! I’m...changing.” She blurted.

Hey to you too.” replied the familiar voice of the last person she wanted to see right then.

“Sorry, Steve. What do you want?” She asked in a calmer tone, leaning with her back against the door; leaning towards his voice.

“I was, um, just checking to see if you were okay.” He replied nervously.

She smiled, cocking her head to the side as if looking at him over her shoulder. He was too compassionate for his own good.

“You’ve been hiding away all day...did something happen?”

“Yes” she thought.

“No.” She said out loud.”No you’re fine, nobody did anything. I just had some work to do. That’s all.”

Steve wasn’t convinced.

“You’re sure? A bit earlier that was the first time I’ve ever heard you turn down food..”

“You worry too much, Rogers. Don’t you have some kittens to save or something?” She replied in her typical evasive, sassy form. The kind one grew used to hearing from her when she was definitely not fine.

“Very funny Nat. I’m going to bed..” He said, hesitating at the end.

“Sleep well.” She replied, not giving him a chance to bring up the night before.

“Okay.” He replied quickly.

Maybe it was just her, but he seemed hurt.

“Wait!” She thought.

“See you tomorrow.” She said instead. But he was already gone. 

She checked the the clock; it read 12:30. 

“Might as well attempt to sleep.” She thought.

So she got her short, black cotton shorts and tank top pajamas and put them on. Remembering the promise she made earlier, she closed and locked her door. She took the pencil from her hair and reached into her nightstand drawer but found it empty. Then she remembered; Steve took her handcuffs. 

She didn’t quite remember how to sleep without them. She tried laying flat on her back, on her side with her hands beneath her pillow, on her stomach, but nothing felt right. Her right hand always seemed to get in the way. After settling in the least uncomfortable position (laying on her back with hands folded on her stomach) she dozed off.

This time she was in her old bedroom. 

If one could even call it that.

She certainly didn’t.

It was more of a flashback than a dream. A face with the cold eyes of her female instructor appeared over the body of her younger self as she opened her eyes from a night’s sleep.

“Natalia. You forgot your handcuffs last night.” 

The young Natasha sat up with a bolt and looked to see both hands resting free on the messed up sheets of her bed.

“I’m sorry Madame.” she said; practically shaking in her long white nightgown. The Natasha looking on taken aback by her thick russian accent.

“Not acceptable. We give you a bed, food, and life and this is how you repay us?”

“It will not happen again.” She replied, not making eye contact with her superior.

“Few rules we have here, and you broke one. This will not go unpunished.” Was the only response she received.

Had it not been for the intensity of the situation Natasha would’ve laughed.

Few rules.

So that’s what they’re saying these days.

“I understand.” She had responded.

“Good.” 

And she was almost teleported to a room with no windows, a metal door, cement walls. The whole prison cell shabang. 

The rest was a blur. People came in, out. Men, women. Armed, unarmed. Food, no food. Beatings, lectures. It rotated. She screamed out once in pain as the two assailants came at her, which was a mistake. One held her down as the other began to hit her repeatedly. 

Stomach.

Face.

Back.

Anywhere; everywhere was scraped and bleeding. 

But she didn’t scream, not anymore. 

She made that mistake earlier.

That was how she got the long scar running up her back.

She sat there; taking it all, without so much as a whimper. She couldn’t have been older than 9. 

Maybe 10.

As they finally left her bludgeoned on the cold floor, she scuffled to the corner and laid down. Slowly; painfully she rested her head there as delicately as possible. A pool of blood formed around her, but no tears fell. What was there to cry for. Herself? 

No.

Hell no.

She woke up to find her pillow wet with tears and blankets sprawled across the floor.

She heard the sound of someone trying to get into her room, and watched the knob as they tried and tried, only to give up and walk away.

“Steve; why can’t you just leave me be?” She whispered, leaning her head against her headboard. After a few moments of thinking it through; she got up and slowly walked to her door. It clicked open and echoed loudly off the walls of the hallway. Her soft steps, however, made no sound as they followed the path to Steve’s room. 

She didn’t knock; didn’t say anything. 

She simply walked in to find him reading a book to no more than a small desk lamp on his nightstand. As if he was waiting. She hesitated no more than a few moments in the doorway before continuing over to him. He put the book down next to him and switched off the tiny light, staying otherwise silent. He slid over a bit as she sat down. 

They didn’t speak. They didn’t have to. They knew; they understood. She rested her head on his chest and let him hold her in his arms; stroking her head as he drew her even more into his embrace. She put one arm behind his back and the other across his stomach; and they both drifted off into a peaceful slumber. 

Natasha had found somewhere to put her arm where it wasn’t in the way, where it wasn’t chaining her down. Right where it belonged:  
By him.


	4. The Soldier and The Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Steve each learn things about the other. They gain trust and finally confront the tension that had been between for much longer than a few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask why this was posted a like 1 am, I got an idea at 11 and just couldn't stop, haha! But thank you for reading and I really hope you enjoy this last chapter! Although this one is over, I already have more ideas for other short stories and maybe even longer ones so its not the end forever. The song I used is "Can't help falling in love" sung by Haley Reinhart. I did not write it (obviously) and in case you were curious it was originally written by George David Weiss, Hugo Peretti, and Luigi Creatore. ENJOY SOME GOOD OLD ROMANOGERS FOLKS (Okay, I clearly need to get some sleep..)

Natasha was the first to wake up again. But this time, she was in no hurry to go anywhere. Would things be easier if she would just drop the act? If she were to just stop covering it all up, would it be worth the risk? Steve, he’s lost things. Heck; he’s lost everything. Natasha on the other hand has never had anything to lose. And the thought of changing that was terrifying. 

In her mind everything seemed so complicated; but she looked up at his face, just inches from hers, and it all seemed so simple.

Him and her.

What else really mattered?

She studied him for while. Not really thinking of anything in particular; just looking at his sleeping face was enough to bring a smile to her face. He had never let go of her, and she didn’t see a problem in that. The thoughts running through her head were purely focused on the joy of that moment. Not convincing herself it was wrong, not how to climb up from this hole she had dug herself, but how she could get away with staying there forever. 

“The world can save itself.” She thought with a smile. 

She reached up to his cheek, holding it in her hand as he continued to sleep. Slowly, she brought it down to rest on the pillow. After a few minutes of resting there, Steve finally began to stir, and his eyes fluttered open. The first thing they saw was a smiling Natasha, and his first thought was that she was beautiful.

She suddenly stopped smiling as she realized that the moment was gone; and now she’d have to find the words to express what she was feeling. 

If they even existed.

They most likely didn’t.

“Morning.” He said first.

“Hi.” She said in reply, brows creased with worry as her heart picked up its pace.

He was still holding her. 

They were still so close…

She sat up and looked around with confusion. It was only moments before she slid to the side and stepped out of the bed. Steve sat up almost immediately after; clearly trying to stumbling over what to say. 

The words that first came to mind would scare her away. The ones after that didn’t express his emotions well enough. 

“It’s not going to be pretty.” He thought.

“But I have to say something.”

After a few moments of Natasha standing by the door in silence; he finally found something to say. It wasn’t exactly what he originally had in mind, not at all actually, but it would suffice.

“What are we doing?” He asked.

“Stop.”

“I’m not going to stop.”

“Well maybe you should.”

“I don’t care what I  **should** do.” He said.

“Please..”She pleaded, still facing the door as he got up and walked over to her.

“If I truly believed you didn’t want this just as me; I would.”

“Then do it for me.”

“Believe me, I will do anything for you except for that. Giving up on you is not something I ever intend to do.” He replied, moving closer to her statue like figure with her back still to him.

“I’ve spent my whole life trying to figure out what to do or want I want, and I finally realized what I want Natasha, and it’s you!” Steve exclaimed.

“I want you.” He added more softly.

“So if you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me. And spare me the “I don’t want to worry you,” because whether you stay or leave isn’t going to change the fact that I will always worry about you; about losing you.” He said after she didn’t reply. When she still didn’t react, he turned her to face him. Her eyes were scared and full of pain. It was as if he could see the battle raging within her. 

“Fight it.” He thought.

She gazed uncomfortably down at her hands then up to eyes. He really had thought of everything. He practically took the emotionally evasive words right out of her mouth. There was no more running; no more denying. It was the end of the line. Reluctantly, she replied with her best attempt at an affectionate phrase.

“I tried telling myself not to get attached; but I just wouldn’t listen.” She sighed deeply, continuing to look into his bright blue eyes.

“I wouldn’t either.” He said, smiling reassuringly at her.

“I have no idea what I’m doing.” She said, allowing herself to smile with him.

She leaned in, and kissed him. It was everything she’d ever wanted coming together. It was all that was taken from him coming back. It was a second chance. It was a new chapter.

The soldier and the spy:

Together where they belonged.

~*~

2 Months later

That morning she woke to him stroking the scar on her back, which was left exposed by her tank top.

“Don’t even ask how I got that.” She said, smiling up at him from his chest.

“I wasn’t planning on it. I will have to know at some point though. As much as it may pain me, I have to know what happened to you.”

She looked at him in confusion.

“You haven’t read my file?”

“No. I prefer to judge people by what they are in the present, not the past.”

She frowned. Although a part of her was relieved, the rest was anxious to have him find out.

“A lot of people died Steve. And lot of crap happened to me. I could never ask you to know that.” She said.

“Did you have a choice?”

“No.” 

“Then nothing in that file will change how I feel about you.” And at that he kissed her on top of the head and walked over to his dresser

She smiled at him as he took off his shirt and put on a thin sweater.

He laughed a bit, looking down at his toes before back at her. She had her arms stretched just past her toes in an effort to wake up. Her head was resting on her knees watching him with a grin.

“You’ve seen me shirtless before. Nat.”

“True. But you were either bleeding, or being hunted by everyone we’d ever known or trusted. Not exactly the greatest times to admire the, umm...successful effects of the serum.”

He laughed at her.

She laughed with him.

“You have a beautiful laugh.” He said. 

“I hope to be hearing it more often.” He added.

She got up and walked over to him, putting his hands on her waist and arms over his shoulders.

“Oh yeah?” She teased, pulling his face closer to hers.

“Yeah.” He replied, his warm breath tickling her neck.

And she laughed once more.

~*~

That evening; 2 am to be exact

Natasha walked around the kitchen searching for something to eat. She thought she had managed to slip out without waking Steve up, but the arms that wrapped themselves around her stomach seemed to suggest otherwise.

“What are you doing up?” He asked, resting his chin on her head. 

She spun around to face him.

“I could ask you the same thing.” She said with a smirk, knowing full well it was her fault he was walking around like a zombie at 2 am.

“I blame you entirely.” He said with a yawn.

“Friday?” Said Natasha with a whisper.

“Yes, Ms.Romanoff?” She asked.

“Play a slow song.” She requested.

Steve looked at her with a panicked expression. She couldn’t help but laugh in reply.

“I heard a vicious rumor that you never learned how to dance.” She said.

Steve rolled his eyes.

“And from whom are you getting this information?” He asked, knowing it was Tony, who had admitted to having several conversations with Peggy growing up.

“A spy never reveals her sources.” She said with a grin.

The song started to play, and Natasha put his hands on her waist and rested hers on his shoulders.

_ Wise men say only fools rush in _

_ But I can’t help falling in love with you _

The tune began. She showed him the simple steps, but it became clear he was more focused on her and the song than learning. He eventually got the hang of it, despite the distractions, and managed to sway around the kitchen whilst focusing his gaze on her. She was in nothing more than a bathrobe and her pajamas, but may as well been wearing a ball gown with the way he looked at her. 

_ Oh, shall I stay, would it be a sin _

_ Oh, if I can’t help, falling in love with you? _

They locked eyes, not breaking the trance until Steve let her hand go in the air and watched her twirl. She spun with such elegance and grace, that he was convinced at that moment that had found the right partner.

_ Like a river flows, surely to the sea _

_ Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be _

_ Take my hand, take my whole life too _

At this, Natasha spun back into his arms and let them drift around to the rest of the song. He held onto her like she was his everything, and she was.

With her; Steve was home.

Whether that was a shiny tower in the woods or a wooden shack in the city made no difference. If she was there to inspire him, love him everyday; that would be enough. She knew how much the dance meant to him. It was the thing he once owed his first love. And even if he couldn’t fulfill his promise; he at least owed her the peace that he had learned. Both to dance, and to love.  

Natasha had always needed someone who could see past the monster she once was and show her love even when she didn’t know she needed it. She found that and more in Steve. He would never give up on her, even when she asked him to, and he would never take her past self and use it to judge the person she is today. He brought out the real her; the Natasha that somehow got buried under all the brainwashing and self-hate. And it was through him that she would find who she was, and make her better. He was the rock on which she could build her new life filled with laughter and joy, not pain and loneliness. And nothing felt better than knowing how much he loved her.

He found his perfect partner.

Through him; she found herself.

**The soldier and the spy; they had found each other. **


End file.
